The Crimes of Other People


She wanders through fields of dew-tipped grass and wild flowers.
The sun shines, bathing her in its warmth.
She pauses beside a stream, watching fish swim by, their silver bodies flashing in the sun.
She hears chirping, and she gazes skyward to see two bluebirds soar past.
As she looks around her, she sees that everything is peaceful and beautiful.
And she thinks, "What a wonderful place, but now I must leave."


She drives home in her car, poisonous gasses spewing from the tailpipe and rising into the atmosphere.
She arrives at her home, which is built from ancient trees, sacrificed for her sake.
She turns on the lights, using up valuable energy.
Surrounding her, there are objects made from synthetic materials, produced in factories that release chemicals and other pollutants into the environment,
And when she is finished with these objects, they will be discarded (out of sight, out of mind) and will be taken to a dump,
Which used to be a field of wild flowers.
And she thinks, "A visit with nature is nice once in a while, but I am glad to be back at home with my modern conveniences."


She always hears stories of how companies dump chemicals into lakes and rivers,
And loggers cut down forests, leaving only a barren landscape,
And hunters kill bears just for their paws, and then leave the rest of the body to rot,
And so many other people do so many other terrible things.
And she thinks, "I wish that those other people could be just like me, and never do anything to harm the environment."

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Spring 1995



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Property of Suzanne P. Currie. Updated July 02, 2007 01:51 AM -0400.